Solitude
by borgprincess
Summary: I voraciously devour every sight that surrounds me in the hope that I can find you...' Miss Parker realizes what Jarod means to her.


Disclaimer: Pretender. Not mine. I can't get much clearer than that, now can I?

Solitude

The world has sharpened into stark clarity.

Hungering for a glimpse of you,

I voraciously devour every sight that surrounds me

in the hope that I can find you

She lived to hunt. It consumed her days, the weeks and months running together, indistinguishable from one another til the year was over. Another unsuccessful year of chasing Jarod. For any other person, this lack of success would wear them down, create doubts and uncertainties; it would cause weakness to seek out the crevices in their soul, nestling in with the intimacy of a parasite, to feed off their perception of their own failings. Yet Miss Parker continued, undaunted. This chase had gone beyond a mere assignment, she had never regarded it that impersonally- she had never been able to think of _him_ with such detachment.

Staring unseeingly at the playful note he had left behind to rile her up, Miss Parker thought of the boy she had befriended so many years ago, who had become the man she was bound to apprehend. Lab rat he may have been, and as such she tried to view him now, but he had truly grown far beyond that label, and all the other sneering names she had thrown at him. No matter how she tried to confine him to one simple, uncomplicated category in her mind, he insisted on escaping to wreak havoc elsewhere. How could she stop thinking of him? She couldn't pin him down in real life, so how could she relegate him to a quiet, remote, dusty corner of her consciousness on mere whim alone? Even when she wished him to the furthest reaches of hell, tried to forget him and the way everything in her life revolved around him, all she could do was focus on how to find him next. Every moment of the day, she was searching for him, trying to piece together his recent activities and what he was up to, figuring out how to track him down. Everywhere she went, her eyes sought his figure; her ears were tuned to his voice…her senses were a finely honed detector that brought her within reach of him so many times, only to be out-witted. He eluded her at the last moment…and that only pushed her to pursue him with renewed vengeance. This could be called an obsession. But Miss Parker preferred to avoid considering how she _thought_ of him, in order to focus on how she was going to _capture_ him. It didn't matter how many hours she devoted to hunting him down, the humiliation and sweat and tears, it would all be worth it in the end.

And yet that simplistic train of thought failed to soothe her. Sometimes she was so tormented she could have shot him in cold blood were he within reach, the Centre be damned. Other times she fought down the insidious need inside her that softly suggested she have faith and follow through on the connection between them, rather than seeking to return him to a cage where he would endure tests for the rest of his life. It was unthinkable. After all, she had been taught to despise him, to think of him as nothing but a means to an end, a tool to be used and that was it. Actually, that could rather be seen as her motto with regards to most men in general.

Settling into his chair- still warm, indicating it had only just been vacated moments earlier- Miss Parker crossed her legs, the short cream skirt riding up high to reveal trim, taut thighs. She ran her thumb over the edge of the note, curling it slightly, feeling the urge to tear it into tiny pieces, to deny his power over her. If she ever got her hands on him, had the chance to extract revenge for all that he had cost her…she also avoided considering exactly what it was she blamed him for. All that mattered was that he provided a convenient figure to loathe, her favourite scapegoat. It gave her pleasure to think of having him at her mercy, training her gun on him with unwavering resolve, and finally dispatch of him.

And then what would she do? It was something she had never really thought about. Sometimes it seemed that this chase summed up her entire life, and that once it ended, she would be cut loose and set adrift. That was unpalatable to the woman that always needed to have a purpose and had found it in this endless pursuit. So determined was she to win that she could conceive of no other purpose after achieving success. In her image of the future, after Jarod, there was…nothing.

Miss Parker's hand lifted to her face, fingers covering her mouth as the thought fought its way into her awareness. Their lives had been inextricably linked for so long, she didn't think she could ever break free of those bonds. Without Jarod, her life lacked any meaning. Which meant that either way, whether she succeeded in capturing him or not, there was only one conclusion that seemed possible- she lost. The only question was whether she would give in and cut her losses, or if she would stubbornly cling to the behavior that had governed her life this far. And she didn't know if she was strong or wise enough to make the right choice.

Sounds flow past my ears in a meaningless

stream of impressions, I do not comprehend them

My mind is glazed over with thoughts of you

And there is no room for anything else.


End file.
